Thrill Me
by TheSilentSenshi
Summary: AU. Ryoma wants to be free of his parents meddling. He didn’t expect accepting Fuji’s help would gain him a thrilling moment of mutual desire as well. FujiRyo AtoRyo!unfulfilledattraction


Thrill Me

Fandom: Prince of Tennis

Pairing: FujiRyo, hints of an AtoRyo attraction(not fulfilled)

Rating: PG13-very mild R (because of public make-out session and heavy petting)

Disclaimer: PoT doesn't belong to me.

Summary: _Ryoma wants to be free of his parents meddling. He didn't expect accepting Fuji's help would gain him a thrilling moment of mutual desire as well. _

Notes: Inspired by the song Sway, by the Pussycat Dolls. For some reason it reminds me of Fuji. Strange, I know. But for the curious, it's a wonderful song. ;D This is a tenipuri AU, which seems to be rare, at least when it comes to FujiRyo, so I felt the need to make one. xD It's kind of off the wall, so bear with it, if you will. I can promise Ryoma in dress clothes, Fuji's exhibitionist tendencies, and a slightly drunk but melting Ryoma. So hopefully that will be enough to get you through. Enjoy. D

Some quick info about the universe:

Instead of Tennis clubs they belong to ritzy elite country clubs(which of course have Tennis Leagues –it's not THAT AU. I can't imagine Ryoma without Tennis. xD). Everyone is older. I'm thinking Ryoma is probably 19 or 20-ish. Fuji(of course) is 2 years older. Oh and when I thought up Fuji I was thinking something similar to what he wore in the Dream Live musical when they were in their "casual" clothes. xD That outfit was awesome.

Now onto the thrill. ;)

xxxx

_Other dancers may be on the floor  
Dear, but my eyes will see only you   
Only you have that magic technique  
When we sway I go weak_

_I can hear the sounds of violins  
Long before it begins  
Make me thrill as only you know how  
Sway me smooth, sway me now_

_Sway me, take me  
Thrill me, hold me  
Bend me, ease me  
You have a way with me_

-Sway, The Pussycat Dolls

xxxx

_Thrill Me_

Echizen Ryoma tugged awkwardly at the loathsome collar of his dress shirt. He was hot, tired, and more than a little annoyed.

He hated suits. He hated people. And he hated dancing.

Yet, here he was, in the overbearingly opulent dance hall at the Seigaku Country Club. His parents had been members for longer than he could recall. Normally he could use excuses to duck out of these functions, but not this time. Apparently his perverted father (who had somehow managed to become sole shareholder to a huge corporation, despite the fact Ryoma believed him to be an incompetent idiot) had been the main reason for his presence this evening.

He had been told he was at the age to begin looking for potential candidates for a beneficial marriage. Ryoma smirked into his glass of expensive champagne. If only his father knew the truth. Ryoma had no interest in his father's colleague's daughters. Though he had to admit some of their sons had promise.

If not for his overbearing arrogance he may have taken up the Atobe heir's offer at his father's last business social. Keigo had been after him for awhile now.

He didn't mind the other boy, and was in truth, somewhat affected by his attractive good looks. However his personality was in desperate need of work. He knew Atobe would most likely treat or view him as some sort of object to conquest rather than a person. It was one of the boy's biggest faults, and Ryoma's main reason for rejecting his advances.

There was no way Ryoma would be reduced to a notch in the bedpost of a man like Atobe. Besides, it's not like Keigo was lacking in available bed companions. He rolled his eyes at the thought of the "Atobe Keigo fanclub". Atobe's ego didn't need to get any bigger. So, he would let him continue believing there was one person on the planet not affected by his wealth or charisma.

It would take more than that to win over an Echizen.

Ryoma found himself actually wishing for Atobe's normally unbearable presence. The man may be an arrogant ass, but he always put on an interesting show. A shame Keigo's father belonged to Hyotei instead of Seigaku.

Ryoma was bored to death and nearly at his wits end. Turning the overly hopeful girls away was so annoying. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? Echizen Ryoma didn't dance, and no, he didn't much like girls either.

Decision come to, he made a beeline for the men's room. He had played the dutiful son long enough for one evening. Maybe if he was a little more comfortable the rest of the evening would be somewhat tolerable. He wasn't expecting a miracle, but at the least he could get out of this heat generating suit coat.

He didn't notice the sharp blue eyes following his every movement, nor the figure that detached itself from its place against the wall to trail him intently at a leisurely pace.

Ryoma tugged his tie as loose as he could reasonably pull it, sighing in relief as his neck was freed from its confines. He glanced up when the door opened. He looked the man over curiously. He felt he should recognize the man, but in the faulty lighting he couldn't make out who it was. Besides, he attended these things so rarely it isn't surprising he would forget a face. The only good thing about Seigaku was the Tennis League affiliated with it.

"Echizen." The sandy haired man nodded in greeting, surprising Ryoma.

The younger man's eyes widened, studying his companion closely. Tailored, yet strangely elegant and flowing white dress shirt. Tight black dress slacks. Shiny shoes whose surface shined so much it could reflect the ceiling's light. The face was in shadows though, and Ryoma couldn't make it out.

The lighting in the restroom was awful. Bright enough to see by (barely), but the bulbs were somehow dimmed to create a manufactured lamplight setting. The lines of the face that he could make out were definitely familiar, yet he couldn't quite place it. Assuming the man was just one of many acquaintances he'd suffered through introductions with, Ryoma returned the greeting by way of a simple nod.

The other man didn't seem to mind his abrupt nature, and disappeared behind the curtain blocking the view of the urinals. It was made of absurdly expensive fabrics. Ryoma didn't much get the point of the curtains, seeing as they were all men anyway. What need did they have for modesty and hiding behind curtains? He concluded it was most likely due to too much money and not enough things to spend it on.

Leaving the other man to his business, he shrugged out of his sweltering suit jacket, leaving it on the ledge of the sink. He swiftly undid several of the buttons on his dress shirt, leaving a decent portion of his pale chest visible. He didn't bother to remove the loosened tie. He purposely un-tucked the shirt tails, before eyeing himself critically in the mirror's reflective surface. His parents would probably have a fit and say he was indecent. He couldn't bring himself to care. At least he wasn't as uncomfortable now.

Turning on the faucet of the gold engraved marble sink, he splashed his face with the cool liquid. He used the excessive water to slick his hair, but was hindered by the cloying gel his father's manservant had carefully applied, making his hair stiff and disgusting feeling. He hated it. His efforts didn't seem to be affecting the stubborn gel, and in an act of desperation he shoved his head beneath the streaming flow of the faucet, hoping it would dislodge the disgusting gel from his hair. He rubbed the black strands roughly, determined to get them clean. When it felt like the worst of the gel was gone he turned the water off and stood upright. Ignoring the high tech blow dryers installed on the far end of the wall, he shook his head from side to side, in an effort to dispel the worse of the excess water. When that failed to do much he resorted to ringing the strands out over the sink.

He had been so preoccupied that he hadn't noticed the other man come out of the curtained off area and begin to watch him curiously. It wasn't until the man approached the sink beside his to wash his hands that he became aware of his presence. He also distantly observed his actions had caused water to fleck the man's lightweight white shirt. He didn't bother apologizing. It wasn't his fault the other man had lousy timing. He forced his eyes away from the small wet spots now accentuating the man's lean yet defined chest and went back to returning his hair to some semblance of order.

He ignored the fact that his own shirt had gotten soaked and clung to him somewhat uncomfortably. He vaguely registered the other faucet turning off.

"I didn't expect to see you here, Echizen. You don't often attend these things."

Ryoma's head shot over to his companion, the soft features revealed now that he was closer to the lamps light. The man's identity suddenly clicked into place. It was a face he knew very well.

"Fuji-sempai?"

Fuji smiled mildly. "You missed a spot. Here," he reached over and smoothed a few stray locks of black hair into place. Ryoma ignored the strange tingling sensation where their skin touched. He couldn't stop the light flush from dusting his cheeks, though. "Why don't I get you a drink? You look like you could use it."

Ryoma nodded his assent, not trusting his voice to behave, and followed his new companion to the mini bar where they were serving drinks. He had left his jacket back in the bathroom, but figured he could always just get a new one.

"Champagne, right?" Fuji smiled disarmingly, handing the drink to his silent companion.

Ryoma took the drink gratefully, not bothering to ask how Fuji had known what he had been drinking all night.

After receiving his own glass, Fuji then steered him towards a small table set aside, away from the dance floor.

"I heard from Tezuka that you would be in the match on Friday." Fuji spoke offhandedly after they had been seated.

"But, of course," Ryoma replied automatically, taking a small sip of his drink. Fuji's smile widened.

"I'm playing too."

"Hn."

Fuji was the only member of the Seigaku Tennis League that he had yet to defeat aside from their captain, Tezuka. He wondered why the tensai was approaching him now. They didn't talk much off of the courts.

"What are you doing here?" Fuji surprised him by asking.

Ryoma eyed him blankly before leaning forward on the table, idly swirling the champagne left in his glass. "My parents want to sell me off to some business colleague's daughter. Ryuuzaki, I think the name was." Ryoma glared at the throng of well-dressed strangers as though they were to blame. He knocked back the champagne in a few large gulps, completely ignoring the rules of etiquette and common sense that said to drink it slowly. Just thinking of his scheming parents had him seriously pissed off.

"Ah. My parents gave up on me long ago." Fuji had waved a bar boy over to refill Ryoma's glass. When he glanced back he found Ryoma's wide cat-like eyes staring at him hopefully.

"How did you do it?"

"Get them to back off, you mean?"

"Un."

"I brought home my boyfriend."

Ryoma sprayed the champagne he'd just begun to take a swig of, coughing at some that had gone down the wrong pipe. He felt a brief touch of gentle fingers rubbing his back soothingly. The tingling sensation had returned, though dulled through the barrier of his thin shirt.

"Easy. You shouldn't drink it so fast, Echizen." Ryoma's skin flushed lightly at the sight of his teammates smile. It was softer than usual. Though, Ryoma supposed it could just be the champagne talking.

Despite his words, Fuji once again beckoned to the bar to refill Ryoma's cup.

"I could help you out, you know," Fuji smiled at him widely. Ryoma thought he saw a glimpse of white teeth this time.

"You could?"

"It would be my pleasure."

"But how…"

Fuji placed a finger over his lips to silence him and smiled lightly. "Yes or no? I won't offer again." Although he admitted to himself he probably would, he figured Ryoma didn't need to know that.

Ryoma gulped. The hand at his back had stopped rubbing, but remained. He could feel its solid weight at his back and its heat seeping into his skin through his shirt.

Fuji was so close Ryoma had to tilt his head to look him directly in the eyes. His throat dried and his heart constricted at the sight of those sharp eyes, staring at him with a hunger that had nothing to do with the dinner scheduled for later that evening.

He couldn't think straight, overwhelmed by the other man's intoxicating presence. The alcohol certainly wasn't helping either. Should he, or shouldn't he? He had no clue what Fuji was thinking, and knew it was dangerous to agree to anything Fuji proposed without knowing all the details. It could be bad. Really bad. But before he could dwell for long on the repercussions, his mouth jumped ahead of his brain.

"Show me."

Fuji's smile was so big that it was nearly frightening to behold. Before Ryoma could retract his statement he found his hand in Fuji's strong grip and his body being tugged gently toward the dance floor.

Ryoma shook his head, trying to unsuccessfully pull away. There was no way Fuji was getting him on that dance floor.

Fuji stopped, frowning at the resistance. His partner was shaking his head negatively. Well now, this simply wasn't acceptable.

Fuji pulled Ryoma close against him so suddenly, Ryoma couldn't stop the new trajectory. Ryoma's resistance was successfully halted for the moment. Tawny eyes blinked at him, grown huge with shock and confusion. Fuji felt he could fall into their depths if given time. They were quite endearing. As was the slightly struggling Echizen.

Fuji's hand drifted to Ryoma's waist, his other one tangled in the still damp strands of hair.

By now they had attracted quite a bit of attention, but Fuji couldn't care less. There was only one person there tonight that interested him, and that person was currently in his arms staring at him hazily with uncomprehending eyes. Hmm… perhaps he shouldn't have let Ryoma drink so much? He had expected more resistance. Not that he minded overmuch. A challenge was nice, but he didn't much care either way when he had those innocent golden eyes watching him, darkening to chocolate in a slow rising lust. The sight was even better than he had anticipated. He could definitely get used to it.

Ryoma had stopped struggling, but he had also stopped moving at all. That simply wouldn't do.

"Come," Fuji tugged Ryoma forward, his lips tantalizingly close to the boy's skin. He squelched the urge to make contact, and moved to put them back on course. He thought he heard a soft whimper of complaint escape those delicious lips, the sound fanning the already blazing inferno of his desire.

His smile turned roguish as he continued forward, feeling no resistance this time.

Ryoma wanted to die. No, scratch that. He wanted Fuji to die. He wanted it to be long and painful. He wanted to watch.

His senses were off, he felt fuzzy and lightheaded, and he was sure it was all Fuji's fault somehow.

Damn schemer. Even Atobe had never dared anything like this. Ryoma should hate it. No, he _did_ hate it. But it was getting difficult to ignore the pounding of his heart in his chest and the fluttering in his stomach.

What the hell did they put in that champagne? Maybe if he got sick Fuji would stop making him feel so deliciously out of control. _Deliciously?_ No, he had _not_ just thought that. He _liked_ being in control. He hated being subject to the whims of others. He couldn't possibly find this relinquishing of control enjoyable.

He looked up and saw Fuji staring at him again, blue eyes smoldering with a barely contained fire. Ryoma swore he could feel the heat rolling from that intense gaze. And, just like that, he felt all of his resistance, all of his defenses, melted away by that blazing inferno.

Fuji once again pulled him close, molding Ryoma's smaller frame to his own. Ryoma thought he might faint, eyes briefly blurring. But strong arms held him up and he felt his own sneaking treacherously around Fuji's body, hands bunching in the other man's shirt.

"I hate you," Ryoma declared, failing miserably to conjure up one of his trademark glares.

Fuji just smiled knowingly.

"I mean it." Fuji nodded agreeably, beginning to move and sway to the beat of the Latin flavored music, pulling Ryoma along for the ride. It was the single most erotic moment Ryoma thought he'd ever been involved in. They were pressed so close together he could feel Fuji's hips contact his own on every few beats.

Ryoma felt a little dizzy, the sensations overloading. He buried his head against Fuji's shoulder and let the older man continue to lead. He felt like he'd become a puppet, and Fuji had somehow gotten hold of his strings.

"You…dead…tomorrow," he mumbled. He didn't see Fuji's smile widen, nor did he hear the breathy reply of _"I look forward to it."_

Ryoma roused himself from the comfortable haze he'd fallen into when he heard the music die down and Fuji had stopped the delicious motions about the dance floor.

He blinked in confusion, wondering why they had stopped. Not that he was disappointed or anything…

Before he could ask, he felt a hot mouth against his own and a foreign tongue seeking entrance. He closed his eyes, gave entrance, and found himself dragged into a dance of an entirely different nature.

This dance was familiar, and yet refreshingly new. He had experimented a few times, but they hadn't gone anywhere and were obviously nowhere near as skilled as his current companion. He was lost to the overwhelming sensations, returning the kiss with a desperate fervor he had never felt before.

Ryoma found his hands moving into Fuji's soft hair, pulling the other man even closer, deepening the kiss as much as he could. Only Fuji existed. The other guests, his parents, Atobe, everyone else were forgotten in that instant.

He whimpered longingly when Fuji broke the kiss abruptly. Both men were flushed, panting, and had eyes darkened nearly to black with growing desire.

Fuji found it increasingly difficult to focus on anything but Ryoma, however he knew that this wasn't the time or place to act on his desires. At least he no longer needed to worry about anyone else sweeping in to make a move on his favorite teammate. No one here would dare risk the wrath of his family by going against him. Ryoma would be his, and he'd made that clear tonight. Not even the Hyotei captain could infringe on his claim now.

He smiled down at the still panting and dazed young man in his arms. He wouldn't take it all the way tonight, it was too soon for that, but he wasn't averse to playing a bit more privately. He guided the suddenly malleable Ryoma towards the exit.

He briefly caught a glimpse of Nanjiroh Echizen glaring at him murderously. He just grinned, his smile filling up his face and his sharp eyes daring the man to try and stop him. He continued to urge Ryoma on a path away from his fuming parent.

He doubted Ryoma would have to worry about any matchmaking on that front any longer. His hand tightened about the one in his own. The only matches Ryoma would be making from now on would be ones on the tennis court. He'd make sure of it.

Once in the relative privacy of the empty hallway Fuji felt the hand in his own retreat. He let it go, ready to grab it again if Ryoma tried to make a getaway. His eyes widened at the sudden feel of hands forcing him against the wall and the demanding mouth forcing his own back open.

Once the shock had faded, Fuji relaxed into the kiss, allowing his younger companion's forcefulness. He found it quite enjoyable actually. Ryoma was obviously a little inexperienced, but he was also a quick learner.

Fuji found himself losing some of his thus far tightly reigned control. He had to move this elsewhere. The hallway didn't provide any privacy, and if they were to go any further it should be somewhere they couldn't easily be found.

He pulled Ryoma off of him, both boys groaning at the loss of contact. Ryoma was desperately trying to continue, but instead found himself being lead further away from the dance hall doors. He whined and tugged Fuji's hand questioningly.

He found himself subject to another mind-melting kiss that ended much too soon for his tastes.

Fuji was panting lightly his mouth close to Ryoma's ear causing the younger boy to shiver deliciously. "We should continue this somewhere more private, Ryoma."

It was the first time he'd used his first name and Ryoma wondered why such a seemingly small thing could turn him on so very much.

This time it was Ryoma pulling away, hand still clasped around Fuji's tightly to ensure the other man wouldn't escape prematurely. Heads would roll if this was all just some twisted joke on Fuji's part.

Fuji let himself be guided as Ryoma deftly led them to the front door and out into the cool autumn air. Ryoma shivered at the breeze, his shirt still a little damp.

Fuji wondered where he was being taken and if perhaps he should be concerned. He didn't feel worried, though. He felt hot and desperately aroused. Even the chill night air couldn't cool his evident ardor. He smirked at the fact that Ryoma was in no better condition.

Ryoma paused briefly, considering, before tugging Fuji in a direction both boys were familiar with. Fuji's eyebrow lifted curiously when they arrived at the Tennis League's luxurious lounge and locker room. He could make out the green and white-lined courts locked up for the night just behind the building.

He looked at Ryoma questioningly, but Ryoma just smirked, making Fuji want to molest those lips all over again. Before he could, Ryoma had rummaged a key from his pants pocket and quickly unlocked the door. Yanking a surprised Fuji into the darkened room behind him, he shoved his older teammate roughly onto the plush couch the team usually reserved for relaxing during breaks.

Fuji sank willingly into the cushions, allowing his companion this moment to explore his body at his own pace. There was, after all, an entire evening for pursuing his own desires. But first he simply had to ask. He halted Ryoma's caressing hands and pulled away from the boy's temptingly sinful mouth.

"How did you get those keys?"

Fuji felt his insides twist delightfully at the wicked smirk Ryoma bestowed upon him.

"Bribed the old man in payment for coming tonight. Now shut up."

And Fuji did so without complaint, far too busy enjoying more carnal pursuits.

But before Ryoma continued with his enjoyable ministrations, he narrowed his eyes at the tensai that was watching him with baited breath.

"I'm still going to kill you for this tomorrow."

Fuji let out a breathless laugh that was quickly swallowed up by eager lips.

Tonight would be fun, but Fuji couldn't wait for tomorrow.

xxxx

The End

xxxx

author's rambles: … I can't get away from Fuji the stalker. I just can't. I always make him one. I don't know why, it's just the vibes I get from him. xD Oh well. I love Fuji's stalker-ish tendencies so I guess its okay.

And, Ryoma has no tact when it comes to sex. Ah well, he's cute so I suppose Fuji can forgive him.

I'm sure I've made plenty of mistakes in this, but I really wanted to post it and have so much schoolwork looming above my head menacingly. So, I apologize if a sentence or phrase along the way came out weird. I looked it over and revised a little, but not as much as I usually do.

Also, I have not personally tested how many champagne glasses one needs to get tipsy, so if my calculations are wrong, suspend your disbelief. I was basing it off of my experience with some strong wines. So if it seems hard to believe, we'll just say Ryoma's extremely bad at holding his liquor. xD

Feedback equals food for the soul

10/1/06


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